


In The Flesh

by vivalarevolucion



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Flashbacks, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Suicide, It's not all doom and gloom I promise!, M/M, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-16 10:02:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8097892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivalarevolucion/pseuds/vivalarevolucion
Summary: When people die, they're gone forever. Or that's what Loki and Thor were always taught to believe. But what happens when the dead return?Five years after their utimely deaths, Thor and Loki find themselves thrust back into the world. Scared, confused, and miles apart, the brothers are forced to confront the lies and secrets they left behind, face the people they never thought they would see again, and in turn find their places in a world that has moved on without them. (Premise of the story inspired by the TV series 'The Returned' and 'In The Flesh'.)





	1. Act I: Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been over a year in the making and I am so nervous yet so over the moon to be sharing it with you all! HUGE shout out to S and M for your patience and enthusiasm, for coaxing the story out of me when I fight kicking and screaming and for encouraging me to keep going when I all but give up. I couldn't do it without you, you guys are the best! 
> 
> And of course my biggest thanks go to all you lovely readers. Without you, this story would forever remain a forgotten file on my laptop. This if for you and I hope you enjoy it. X

For those who didn’t know him better, they might have mistaken Thor’s silence for resolute calm. But Loki knew otherwise. He observed his brother’s tight grip on the steering wheel, the slight clench in his jaw, the tense set of his shoulders. He’d never seen Thor this afraid and it had his stomach in knots. They had only been on the road for about half an hour, but Loki swore it was the longest thirty minutes of his life. They sat in complete silence, save for the low hum of the engine and the faint crackle of the radio.

 

Loki remembered a time several years ago when he and Thor were sat in the back of this very car at the end of a long dinner party, their parents in the front driving home in contented silence. Thor had been sound asleep, his head lolling sideways against the window pane. He looked extraordinarily beautiful like this. Loki’s eyes lingered on the graceful expanse of Thor’s neck and he imagined what it would feel like to place a gentle kiss there, trailing upwards to his brother’s slack jaw and finally his soft lips, slightly parted in slumber. Captivated, he watched the shadows flit sporadically across his brother’s face under the dappled motorway lights.

Unlike Thor, Loki couldn’t get to sleep. He had been troubled lately by a low-level but persistent anxiety that lurked in the pit of his stomach. He felt a perpetual sense of unease that he could not quite explain, as if he existed in a borrowed skin and could, at any moment, be exposed. Occasionally it would bubble up into a full blown anxiety attack, and he’d have to dash to the nearest private place to get it under control. But in that very moment, as the car rolled steadily forward through the darkness, a strange sort of calm descended upon him. He felt as though he and his family, huddled together in the metal confines of their car, were completely untouchable. It was a delicate balance, but as long as they stayed exactly where they were, they would be safe from the perils of the outside world. As Loki gazed across at his brother’s sleeping form he prayed silently that the journey would never end.

From the corner of his eye he saw Frigga place her hand on top of Odin’s, which rested on the gear stick between them, and give it a gentle stroke with her thumb. Odin glanced sideways at her and smiled. Feeling brave Loki inched his hand towards Thor’s, concealed in the darkness on the backseat of the car. He felt for Thor’s hand and tucked his tentatively underneath. Thor stirred and raised his head slightly, confused at the foreign touch. When he saw it was Loki he closed his eyes again and settled back down to sleep. Loki felt his heart wrench, desperate for a sign of his brother’s affection. But, as if - eyes closed - Thor could perceive his distress, he spontaneously reached out for Loki’s hand on the car seat and gave it a long, deliberate squeeze.

 

This time around however it was them in the front seat of the car, and Thor’s hand resting on the gear stick. Like Frigga Loki longed to reach out and touch it, but he could feel the apprehension coming off Thor in waves of static electricity that had Loki shrinking in his seat. His brother looked utterly demoralised, hunched over the steering wheel, lost in thought. Loki had never felt a greater distance between them and it had him on the verge of tears.

His palms were sweating. _Come on Loki, get a grip, this was your idea after all._ But with each minute that the car sped forward, all Loki’s previous conviction seemed to melt away. Maybe Thor was right, maybe it would never work. Odin was a figure in the public eye, and - by proxy - so were they.

Wherever they went there was a risk someone might recognise them, if not straight away then maybe in a month, a year, even five years down the line. And then there was the question of money. Thor had managed to take what little he could find in the house, and between them they had some savings. But Odin had cut Thor off from his trust fund, and Loki wouldn’t turn eighteen for another few months, so his money was not yet in his name. They probably had enough to check into a motel until the end of the month, but after that the future was uncertain.

They couldn’t go back though, not now. There was nothing to go back to, Odin had made that abundantly clear to him. His father was not his father, his mother was not his mother and he was no longer welcome home. He had been cast adrift and his only hope was Thor, the rock that he desperately clung to lest he drown. And by the looks of things Thor himself was starting to go under. If anything they should have been grateful that they weren’t _actually_ brothers. It was the kind of sardonic turn of events that Loki had dreamt of for years to legitimise their relationship. But now that the chips were down he understood that in reality this cataclysmic revelation changed almost nothing.

‘Thor?’ Loki murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Thor stared straight ahead, expression vacant. Loki cleared his throat and tried again a little louder.

‘Thor.’

His brother looked at him then, electric eyes boring right through him. ‘Yeah, what is it?’

Loki let out a shaky exhale, ‘can you please pull over?’

‘What’s the matter?’

‘N-nothing. Just please, pull over.’

Thor nodded once and flicked the signal on. The car rolled to a smooth stop by the side of the road. Thor switched the engine off and turned to Loki. The weight of his gaze was unbearable and Loki looked away, unnerved.

‘What is it, are you sick?’

Loki gave a humourless laugh. ‘No it’s not that.’

‘What is it then?’

Summoning all his courage, Loki steeled himself to speak.

‘Thor, be honest with me,’ he swallowed thickly, ‘Is this what you want?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean this,’ Loki gestured vaguely towards the open road ahead, ‘is it what you really want? I need to know.’

Thor stared at him for a moment, for once his expression inscrutable. Loki’s heartbeat thudded dully in his ears.

‘Don’t do this to me Loki,’ Thor said softly, shaking his head, ‘don’t fucking do this to me. Not now.’

Loki balked. ‘Do what?’

‘You know what!’ he spat suddenly, ‘bale on me, get cold feet!’

‘What? Where did you-’

‘You can’t change your mind Loki, not now. We’ve gone too far this time.’

‘I never said I had changed my mind!’ Loki blurted out, exasperated, ‘I just want to know that this is what you really want!’

‘Of course it’s not what I really want!’ Thor yelled, slamming his fist down on the dashboard, ‘none of this is what I want, but what fucking choice do I have?’

Overwhelmed, he threw off his seatbelt in one abrupt motion and swung the door open. Loki winced as it slammed shut. Beyond the windscreen he saw Thor march a few yards in front and yell a muted ‘for fuck’s sake!’ Even in the safe confines of the car his brother’s rage left him reeling. They were both at the end of their tether, he could feel it. For months Loki had fantasised about the two of them running away together, but this was definitely not how he had envisaged it.

Thor paced furiously back and forth, fuming at the injustice of it all.

‘I mean we just can’t win!’ he roared at no one in particular, ‘whatever we do, we’re fucking screwed! And now it’s come to _this_. On the run from my own parents, in their fucking stolen car!’

He kicked the wheel in frustration and stormed off, coming to a stop a distance ahead with his hands on his hips, head tilted back, breathing hard. Loki waited in the car, ears ringing.

Eventually Loki took a deep breath and stepped out, walking up behind his brother and wrapping his arms around his waist. He was only marginally shorter than Thor and placed a chaste kiss on the nape of his brother’s neck. Thor sighed heavily and turned to face him.

‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered, pulling Loki in for a tight embrace, ‘I shouldn’t have yelled. I just- This all happened so fast. I don’t know what to do.’

‘It’s ok,’ Loki breathed against his neck, though his weak knees threatened to betray him. He felt borderline hysterical.

Thor leaned back to look at him, tracing his thumb across Loki’s cheek. ‘I just wish we could go home,’ he lamented, ‘make mum and dad see reason.’

Loki shoved him off, eyes defiant. ‘They’re not my mum and dad,’ he snarled, ‘and that is not my home.’

Thor stood gaping. They stared at each other for several tense moments. Slowly the tears began to brim in Loki’s eyes and trickle down his cheeks. Thor went to hug him but Loki pushed him away roughly.

‘Loki, please,’ Thor choked, arms raised in supplication.

A ragged sob tore from Loki’s throat and he began to cry in earnest. As Thor gathered him up in his arms Loki fought with all his strength, but Thor gripped him painfully tight until at long last Loki’s knees buckled and he sagged forward into his brother’s embrace. His arm was trapped at an awkward angle, and Thor had to reach round to stroke his hair as Loki sobbed mournfully into the crook of his neck.

‘Hey,’ Thor comforted him, ‘hey, baby don’t cry. It’ll be ok.’

Loki wept on, inconsolable.

‘I’m here, I’ll take care of you. We’ll find a way to make it work, I promise.’

Loki’s whole body shook as all the sorrow of the past week flooded out of him. Thor held him close for a very long time, not saying anything, just pressing kisses to his hair and his cheek. They stayed like that until he felt Loki’s sobs subside to a quiet whimper. Eventually Loki pushed back, and used his sleeve to wipe away a trail of snot. Even with his eyes cast down Thor could see they were puffy and raw. In the space of a week all of Loki’s snark and purported self-assuredness had fallen away, and he had been left a husk of himself. He had gone back to being the scared little boy that used to creep into Thor’s bed in the middle of the night, except this time the monsters were not just in Loki’s head.

At long last Loki spoke.

‘You could go back if you wanted to.’ He kept his eyes to the ground, words barely audible against the cars that sped behind them.

Thor shook his head, ‘there’s no way I’m-’

Loki’s head shot up. ‘I’m serious Thor!’ He paused to regain control, and continued a little quieter this time, ‘go back if that’s what you want. You don’t have to do this for me.’

‘Loki,’ Thor whispered urgently, taking his brother’s face in his hands, ‘I want to do this, for us. I mean it. Fuck all the rest. They can go to hell.’

The sincerity in his voice made Loki want to cry all over again, but he braced himself and pressed a delicate kiss to his brother’s lips.

They trudged hand in hand back to the car. When Thor made to get in the driver’s side Loki blocked him.

‘I’ll drive,’ he said sternly.

Thor paused, ‘you sure?’

‘Yeah course,’ Loki said, ‘I’ll take over, you get some sleep.’

They settled in their seats and Loki brought the engine to life.

‘Hey,’ Thor said, cupping the back of his neck, ‘thanks.’

Loki gave a hesitant smile and leaned in for a long, languorous kiss.

 

When they set out on the road once more Loki felt as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he could breathe easily for the first time in days. All the tension had dissipated and the future suddenly didn’t seem so bleak.

He drove them steadily on towards their unknown destination. In time the light began to fade and night crept up on them. Loki glanced over and smiled to see Thor deeply asleep, head resting on the window pane just like all those years ago.

The milky glare of the head lights threw out a stark glow across the solitary road. A familiar song started up on the radio, the guitar riff instantly recognisable to Loki as one of his favourites. He twisted the volume up higher and began to sing.

‘Take me out tonight, where there’s music and there’s people and they’re young and alive….’

Thor slowly stirred and Loki gave him a wry smile as they caught each other’s eye.

‘Driving in your car, I never never want to go home, because I haven’t got one…. anymore.’

Thor returned the smile, glorious an unguarded, and Loki felt a rush of unbridled adrenaline like he hadn’t felt in months. He turned the volume up even higher.

‘Take me out tonight, because I want to see people and I want to see life!’ Loki belted at the top of his lungs, deliriously happy. ‘Driving in your car, oh please don't drop me home, because it's not my home, it's their home and I'm welcome no more.’

He turned to his brother, ‘come on Thor, I know you know the words!’

Thor chuckled and rolled his eyes, but nevertheless threw his head back and joined in.

‘And if a double-decker bus,’ they bellowed in unison, ‘crashes into us! To die by your side is such a heavenly way to diiieeee!’

‘And if a ten ton truck,’ Loki sang on, ‘kills the both of us!’

‘Loki.’

‘To die by your side, well the pleasure the privilege is miiiine!’

‘LOKI!’

Too late he saw it. A tiny, pale figure standing in the middle of the road. A small boy, ghostly white in the glare of the headlights. Loki grabbed the steering wheel and swerved. The car spun wildly. Images flashed at shutter speed. The last thing he saw was Thor being thrown forward and then everything went black.


	2. Act I: Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor wakes up...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the amazing feedback so far!

The warmth of the sun trickled like honey onto the edges of Thor’s consciousness, bearing down on his back and left side. It was strangely comforting and he lay there for several minutes, basking in the heat. The ground beneath his cheek was warm too, firm and tactile. There was a distinct smell around him, the industrial odour of petrol fumes and hot engines. As his senses sharpened he became aware of the deafening roar in his ears coming from somewhere behind. It sounded like… cars approaching and speeding past, sporadic but frequent. The rumble of tyres on tarmac hummed through his body. Ahead of him Thor vaguely perceived the sound of tyres screeching to a halt, and the slam of a car door. A muffled shout that billowed outwards like a drop of ink in water.

And yet there it was again, closer, louder and more urgent.

_Are you ok? Hello, are you ok?_

Suddenly there were hands upon him, carefully adjusting his arm and his head.

_Can you hear me? Open your eyes._

Hmmm, an instruction. Thor willed his body to respond to his brain. Slowly he cracked an eye open, squinting at the sudden bright light of the sun.

_He’s conscious. Should we call an ambulance? Did you see what happened? Was there an accident? I don’t know, he was like this when I got here. Is he hurt?_

Voices swirled above him. He shifted, trying to get a grip on the tarmac to push himself up.

_Step back, give him room!_

Slowly, he sat up. Several concerned faces swam into his vision. He felt light headed and closed his eyes for a moment.

‘Are you ok?’ A woman was crouching beside him, her hand firm on his shoulder, brow furrowed in concern.

Thor nodded. ‘I’m fi-’ His voice came out in a croak as if it had gone unused for a long time. He cleared his throat, ‘I’m fine.’

‘Are you hurt? Did you get hit?’

In truth he wasn’t sure. But when he shifted his weight there was no pain, and looking down at himself there was no sign of injury or impact.

‘I-I don’t think so.’

‘Do you remember what happened?’

He tried to think back, but there was nothing, no memory, just an opaque cloud behind his eyelids. It was like his memories were a vivid dream that had dissipated instantly upon waking, leaving only a vague sensory residue behind. Frustrated he shook his head.

‘Maybe he had a seizure.’ Someone behind interjected.

The woman glanced round. ‘Maybe,’ she said, ‘but he’s got no medical wristband and no ID.’ She turned back to Thor, ‘what’s your name sweetie?’

It took him a few moments to process the question. His throat was bone dry. ‘Thor,’ he rasped.

She nodded and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

‘Ok Thor, is there anyone we can call? Parents, friends, a girlfriend maybe?’

Thor rubbed at his eyes, exhausted. He was too sluggish to think.

‘My brother. Call Loki.’

‘Ok sweetie. You sit tight and we’ll call your brother.’ She rummaged in her back for her mobile, ‘Do you know his number?’

‘Yeah it’s in my pho-’ He patted his jeans pockets and found them empty, no phone, no wallet, no keys, nothing. Wildly he looked around to see if his possessions had been scattered, but there was nothing, except the woman crouched beside him and the small crowd that had gathered behind.

‘Do you know it from memory?’ The woman asked.

He nodded and after taking a second to gather his thoughts recited it to her. From the tinny speaker on the phone he heard the call connect and a monotonous voice chime in: _The number you have called is out of service._ On loop over and over. The woman hung up and shook her head.

‘Thor, can you stand up?’ She asked.

He nodded and leaned in as two bystanders stepped forward to help him to his feet. The motion had him dizzy again and he clung to them tightly.

‘Jesus he’s big,’ he heard one of them say as he extended himself to his full height.

‘Thor?’ The woman tried again, ‘the number you gave me didn’t go through. Is there somone else we can call? What about your parents, do you know their number?’

Thor stared at her, disconcerted. He scrambled to remember, but his brain refused to function.

‘I don’t know,’ he pressed his fingers into his eye sockets, overcome. He wished they would stop asking him questions.

‘It’s ok,’ a middle-aged man intervened stepping forward, ‘He’s tired. I’ll drive him home.’ He turned to Thor. ‘Son, do you know your address?’

Thor eyed him up, hesitant. He looked back at the man in front of him and his eyes panned across the expectant faces in the crowd. He nodded slowly.

The woman gave him a tight lipped smile.

‘Alright then,’ the man said, taking him gently by the arm, ‘I’m parked just over there.’

 

 

Thor leaned against the side of the car and exhaled. The driver, who had introduced himself as Peter, was just in front, calling work to say he would be taking the morning off.

When he’d told the man his address, Peter had whistled through his teeth.

‘You’re quite a way from home!’ he chuckled, ‘what brings you out here?’

Thor had no idea where he was, or how he had ended up there, and only the overwhelming mental exhaustion he currently felt kept him from having a full on anxiety attack. A dull headache was beginning to throb behind his temples. His was badly dehydrated.

A few feet beyond the car, Thor could see a large bouquet of flowers tied to a lamp post, red carnations just like his mother used to grow. He had always loved the colour red, and Frigga told him it represented love and passion, but these flowers seemed to speak of danger, of bloodshed. He felt strangely compelled by them, and yet they filled him with a deep sense of foreboding that he couldn’t fathom.

Nervously, Thor wandered towards the shrine. The carnations were starting to wither and shrivel, the bright scarlet turning a murky brown. One of the petals cracked off at his touch and fluttered to the ground.

Behind the bouquet was tucked a small card, which Thor hooked out with long fingers. Small, familiarly neat handwriting curled across the page, black ink bleached indigo by the sun.

A stab of panic shot through Thor’s heart. He crumbled to the ground, unable to breathe. Behind him, the thud of footsteps.

‘Hey, hey, are you ok?’ Peter gripped him, holding him steady.

Thor choked, unable to speak.

‘We need to find a hospital,’ Peter said firmly, hauling Thor up but struggling under his immense weight.

‘No,’ Thor gasped, chest heaving, ‘h-home. T-take me home.’

Peter stilled for a moment, unsure, but eventually he nodded and helped Thor into the car.

Thor was just about compos mentis enough to feel the car push off. As he stared out the window at the road that stretched ahead, dark shapes in the recesses of him memory began to fall into place. He glanced down at the card clutched in his hands, and saw that he was visibly shaking. Cautiously he opened the card just a crack, half afraid that the words might jump out and attack him. But they stayed static on the white page, filling him with dread:

_To our darling Thor, gone but never forgotten. May you rest in peace._


	3. Act I: Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki wakes up...

_The smell was the first thing he perceived; a damp, earthy smell that came from all around. And then the darkness. Loki was sure his eyes were open, but he could see nothing but pitch black. He realised he was lying horizontally, but where? Bewildered, he struck out in front of him to feel his surroundings and his hand collided with something hard just above him. He fumbled blindly along the surface just inches in front of his nose, and panic seized him as he realised he was trapped underneath something solid and heavy. Frantically he pushed above him but in the tight space his elbows were restricted to his sides. He called out but his voice came out in a low muffled growl, strange to his own ears. Wildly he began to punch the hard surface above him, overwhelmed by the sudden desperate urge to break free. With one immense shove he felt the object above him give, the hard surface splintered where he thumped it with his fist and a soft, organic substance crumbled onto his cheek. It was soil. Loki braced himself to sit up and break out of his confines. Scrabbling to climb out of the enveloping darkness he pushed the layers of soil out from above him until he felt it subside as one hand broke the surface. With all his strength he wrestled his way upwards until, like a diver swimming up from the bottom of the ocean, he emerged, gasping, from the earth._

 

Loki sat bolt upright, chest heaving. A thin sheen of cold sweat broke out across the nape of his neck and his clothes clung to him. With a shaky hand he pushed a damp strand of hair out of his face and tried to get his breathing under control. _In for four, out for eight, that’s it._ It had been a while since he’d had a nightmare like that, and he wondered grimly if his meds were messing with him.

In the darkness he could hear the gentle patter of rain tapping against the window. Wearily, he leaned over to switch on his bedside lamp and startled when his hand swiped thin air. In his confusion he swung his legs over the side of the bed only to have them collide with something hard. He let out a strangled cry. Fumbling blindly he managed to push himself up to a standing position and reached over to tug at the curtains of the window perpendicular to the bed. The eerie blue glow of the evening light flooded the room and Loki recoiled in horror.

He looked around him wildly, the last vestiges of sleep promptly discarded in shock. The object he had kicked seemed to be a cabinet of some kind, one he didn’t recognise. The bedside table had vanished, and in the far corner where the wardrobe should have been there was a large wooden desk. But the room was familiar somehow, he had definitely been here before; the proportions, the layout, and the slant of the roof were unmistakeably…. his bedroom.

Of course. Grim realisation descended upon his consciousness like a cold sweat. He slumped back down on the bed, weary and achingly groggy. But there was something deeply unsettling afoot; this was not his room as he remembered it. The once sparse magnolia walls were now covered with diagrams, photos and sketches, of galaxies and constellations. On the floor besides the bed he found a pile of books which had definitely not been there before. Even the bedspread underneath him was different. He jumped up in alarm.

Why had everything suddenly changed? Whose furniture was this? Loki stumbled over to the desk in the corner and peered at the scattered items; piles of paperwork, a Ramones CD and a half-eaten bowl of noodles. He desperately rummaged through the drawers until he found a letter which he held up to the light. Peering at the envelope in his hands he saw his home address written on the front, but in small black print above it read the words: Darcy Lewis.

Loki let the envelope fall to the floor and began hastily riffling through the others, terror seizing his gut as he realised they were all addressed to the same person. What on earth? Who was this Darcy Lewis? Why were her possessions in his flat?

On the desk there was a picture frame and he cautiously picked it up. Smiling in the photo were two people that he’d never seen in his life; both women had long dark hair, one wore a red beanie hat and thick framed glasses, the other was simply dressed but pretty. Loki promptly set the picture back down on the desk and wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers.

Nervously he opened the door and stepped cautiously into the hallway. He tried to remember if the landlord had mentioned new tenants moving in, but his memories retracted like a murky fog and he realised he couldn’t remember anything beyond… well, beyond waking up.

Loki froze at the top of the stairs as voices floated up from the kitchen. His instinct told him to bolt, but he knew he couldn’t reach the front door without passing the kitchen first. It was his flat after all, he knew the layout perfectly. From within he heard a man’s voice and a woman laughing. Suddenly they stepped out into the hallway and Loki’s heart spiked.

The woman was the one he had seen in the photo, wearing thick framed glasses and a brightly coloured unicorn onesie. The man also looked to be in his twenties, though Loki didn’t recognise him either.

‘I hope you feel guilty,’ the man said, pulling his coat on ready to leave, ‘sending me out in the rain to get you pop tarts.’

‘Well technically you’re the intern,’ she jibed, ‘so you have to do as I say. Besides, there might be a bonus in it for you somewhere.’

The man chuckled, cupped her cheek and leaned in for a kiss. Loki held his breath and waited stock still. Suddenly the sound of a mobile ringtone blared from the bedroom behind him.

The woman broke off the kiss and looked up to see Loki on the stairs above her.

She let out a piercing scream.


	4. Act I: Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos and the comments so far - it means the world!

‘Frigga, we need to go now or we’re going to be late.’ Odin called up the stairs, the car key ready in his hand. From somewhere in the distance a peel of thunder rolled across the sky and the rain seemed to intensify. He glanced at his watch and clicked his tongue impatiently. 

‘Frigga?’ 

No response. 

Grumbling under his breath Odin climbed the staircase and swung the bedroom door open. 

‘Frigga, what’s taking-’ 

His voice trailed off at the sight of his wife weeping silently at her dressing table, a delicate hand pressed to her mouth, body taught with grief. Seeing she had been caught, Frigga let out a desolate sob and pressed her forehead to the cool marble table top, tears sliding over the bridge of her nose and splashing onto the counter. 

‘Oh Frigga.’ 

Odin strode across the room and lifted her head tenderly in his hands. He pressed her cheek lightly to his chest, rubbing slow circles across the plane of her back and whispering words of solace. Frigga gripped him tightly, shallow breaths coming fast as her tears blossomed in dark blotches on his shirt. 

‘I’m so sorry,’ she choked, ‘I don’t know what’s gotten into me today.’

‘Shhhh, it’s ok,’ he soothed, leaning back to wipe away a tear with the pad of his thumb. She looked up at him, eyelashes matted into wet clumps and mascara smudged onto her lower lids. He was struck by her beauty even now, made all the more poignant by her distress. She sniffed and wrung her hands. 

‘It’s been like this all afternoon, I’ve just had this strange feeling in my gut,’ she whispered, clutching the hand he held to her cheek, ‘I feel them here, close to me. It’s as if they were with us right now. Can’t you feel it too?’ 

Odin shook his head. ‘Darling, there’s nothing there. I promise you.’ 

She sighed. ‘God, you’re right. I-I mean, they always told us that the first three years would be the hardest. But after five years…’ her eyes drifted to a framed photo hanging on the far wall, ‘surely things should have got better by now?’ 

‘Frigga it will never go away,’ Odin said gently, ‘but we still have each other. That at least we can be grateful for.’ 

Her eyes snapped back to him suddenly, the pinch in her brow boarding on accusatory. Odin’s breath caught in his throat. 

‘I know that,’ she said at last, expression softening, ‘I just…I live with so many ghosts.’ 

Odin paused, unsure of how to respond. Deep down it frightened him, the change he had witnessed in Frigga and how drastically the deaths of their sons had altered the dynamic of their relationship. At the first the immediacy and intensity of their grief had seemed to bring them closer together. But now, years later, he realised how brittle and transient that solidarity had been, and it steadily ebbed away with each tragic anniversary, like a yarn pulled loose in a garment, slowly unravelling until it completely fell apart. 

Frigga’s breathing slowed as her crying stopped. She sat, head tilted slightly to one side, so that her teardrop earring dangled to her shoulders. Her grey eyes glistened in the low light, haunted, unfocused. She looked almost youthful. 

‘I just can’t help thinking,’ she said quietly, almost to herself, ‘if we’d done things differently…’ 

Odin’s mouth twisted into a thin line and he swallowed thickly. Frigga came to and shook her head. 

‘I’m sorry,’ she blurted, ‘I shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s not the right time. Come on, let’s go.’ 

She stood up abruptly and made to grab her purse. The zip was open and the contents spilled out in all directions, scattering noisily across the floor. Frigga threw her hands up in despair and scrambled to gather the fallen items at her feet. 

‘Wait,’ Odin sighed, crouching down in front of his wife. He placed a large, calloused hand on hers, stilling her. ‘Frigga, wait.’ 

She paused and sighed, setting her purse back down on the floor before meeting his gaze. 

‘You don’t have to go if you’re not feeling up to it,’ he said softly, ‘I mean it. I’ll just tell Cedrick you had a migraine.’ 

Frigga sighed and zipped up her purse, standing to her full height. Odin followed suit. 

‘No,’ she said firmly, then attempting to lighten the mood with a smile, ‘it’s not every day my husband manages to close the biggest deal in company history. And with Cedric Foster no less. There’s no way I’m not coming.’ 

Odin looked at her for a heartbeat. 

Her smile faltered and a wistful expression flitted across her face. She gave his wrist a small squeeze. ‘Odin, I’m coming with you.’ 

He leaned to place an affectionate kiss on her cheek. ‘Indeed,’ he purred, ‘you were never one to turn down free wine.’ 

‘Hey!’ She shoved him playfully on the shoulder, before turning back to the large mirror above her dresser and dabbing worriedly at her makeup, ‘seriously now, how do I look?’ 

‘Like the queen you are.’ Odin extended a hand to her which she took and together they descended the stairs. 

  


  


Outside the rain fell in sheets and they dashed over to the car, giggling as they piled inside. Odin put the key in the ignition, and the Jag hummed to life. He revved the engine a couple of times wiggling his eyebrows and Frigga rolled her eyes. 

‘Honestly, you boys and your toys.’ 

‘What can I say? A queen needs her chariot.’ 

_The Corsa did us just fine_ , she wanted to say, but she saw flashes of the police Polaroids, the car mangled almost beyond recognition, and she bit her tongue as with a surge of grief she pictured her two boys lying unconscious inside the wreckage. 

The car rolled smoothly out of the driveway and onto the main road. It was a quiet suburban evening, and Frigga watched as a flock of ravens passed above them in the dusky sky. Odin was buzzing with a tacit excitement, elated at having closed the deal after months of arduous negotiation. She didn’t think much of Cedric Foster herself, but she knew how important this dinner was to Odin, and for that reason she would play the part of the pulchritudinous wife and leave the men to talk shop.

They sat in contented silence for a minute or so, listening to the muted hum of city life and the steady motion of the windscreen wipers that swept away dappled pools of colourful rain. 

Suddenly Odin slammed on the breaks, throwing them both forward in one violent motion. 

‘Odin, what on earth –’ But then Frigga saw what had her husband captivated. 

A few metres away, facing them stood a tall young man with long blonde hair hanging down in matted streaks, wearing soaked clothes that clung to a broad, muscular frame. 

Frigga gasped and clapped a hand to her mouth in disbelieve. 

It was Thor.


	5. Act I: Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIG shout out to everyone who has been following the story and giving me positive feedback, you guys make my day every time!

Loki leaned forward and put his head in his hands, momentarily blocking out the bright, unforgiving lights of the interrogation room. From a metre or so directly in front of him an authoritative voice cut through the silence.

‘Mr Laufeyson, why don’t you tell us again what happened?’

Loki sighed, lowered his hands to address Officer Rogers and did his best to remain calm.

‘I’ve told you everything already,’ he said, voice fraught with barely concealed contempt, ‘all I remember is waking up in _my_ room, in _my_ flat. The furniture was different and all my things had gone. I heard voices coming from down stairs and went to investigate. That’s when I saw two strangers standing in the hallway.’

‘And by ‘strangers’ I presume you’re referring to Darcy Lewis and Ian Boothby, the former being the current tenant of 56, Newbury Place.’

‘I don’t know anything about her, but she’s not the current tenant, I am!’

The other man in uniform, formerly introduced to him as Officer Barnes, who up until that point had been slouched in the corner scowling, suddenly stood up and leaned aggressively over the table.

‘Loki Laufeyson, we both know you did not ‘just wake up’ in Miss Lewis’ flat, so why don’t you cut the crap and tell us what’s really going on?’

‘It’s the truth!’ Loki spat defiantly, ‘if I was going to lie I’d make it more convincing than that, _trust me_.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Listen, I’m telling you there were two intruders in my house. So why am _I_ the one being interrogated?’

Officer Barnes slammed a fist on the table. ‘Do you really expect us to believe that Miss Lewis just moved in overnight, furniture and all, while you slept soundly in your bed?’

‘No of course not!’ Loki white-knuckled his seat in frustration, ‘I don’t know how it happened, I’m just as confused as you are.’

‘Oh I highly doubt that Mr Laufeyson.’ Officer Bucky stood upright, shaking his head.

‘Please – just listen, listen.’ Loki turned with pleading eyes to address Officer Rogers.

He felt humiliated and exhausted, and half wished the officers would just lock him in a cell for the night and have done with it so he could be alone with his thoughts. Bitterly he swallowed, and tried to sound as measured as he could.

‘I promise I’m not lying. I just want to know what’s going on.’

The two police officers exchanged a concerned glance, before Officer Rogers leaned into his colleague’s ear. ‘Bucky,’ he said in a low voice, ‘why don’t you go run some background checks? See what comes up. I’ll keep things ticking over here.’

Officer Barnes turned his sceptical gaze to Loki.

‘So far what you’ve told us does not add up,’ he said plainly, ‘and if we find out you’ve given a false statement, as I highly suspect, I’m charging you with breaking and entering, d’you understand?’

‘Yes sir,’ Loki replied coldly.

The officer looked unconvinced, but dutifully left. The other readied himself to resume questioning. Loki’s eyes flicked to the one way mirror that lined the wall and back again.

‘I wasn’t robbing them,’ he urged, ‘think about it. If I was, I would have had valuables in my pockets, but I had nothing on me. It’s my flat, ask the landlord. His name is Vignesh Raja, he’ll confirm everything I’m saying.’

‘Loki, we will get to the bottom of this,’ Rogers replied gently, ‘I just need to ask you a few more questions, ok?’

Loki exhaled and sat back on his chair.

‘You maintain you were living alone in the flat, am I right?’

‘That’s correct.’

‘How long had you been living there?’

Loki looked down at his hands, ‘about six months.’

‘And before that where were you living?’

He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly stifled by the thick air in the room.

‘Before that I was erm… well, I was in hospital.’

Officer Rogers raised an expectant eyebrow. Loki cleared his throat.

‘Car crash.’ He whispered, avoiding the officer’s gaze as his eyes threatened to well up. He forced the knot back down his throat, digging his nails wilfully into his palm where they left tiny crescent-moon grooves.

‘And before the crash, where were you living?’

Loki swallowed. ‘With my…’

He almost couldn’t bring himself to say it, but the word dragged itself to the tip of his tongue.

‘With my family,’ he whispered at last.

Officer Rogers nodded, all furrowed brow and concerned eyes. It made Loki want to upend the desk.

‘And what were you doing before six o’clock today?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Well it was after six o’ clock when Miss Lewis found you on her property, and she says she’d been in her room all afternoon. You most definitely weren’t in there then. So what were you doing all day?’

Loki balked, caught off-guard by the question and the fact that he could not, for the life of him, think of the answer.

‘I-I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know what you were doing all day?’

‘No. I don’t remember.’

Officer Rogers bent forward and looked him straight in the eye, ‘Loki, is there something you’re not telling me?’

A single bead of perspiration trickled down Loki’s temple as the officer held his gaze.

Just then Officer Barnes burst into the room looking flustered.

‘Steve you might want to see this.’

‘What is it?’

‘Can you step outside for a minute?’

 

 

Back in the office, Bucky steered Steve over to a computer and hurriedly ushered him into the chair behind the desk.

‘Bucky, what the hell is going on?’ Steve exclaimed, as Bucky punched frantically at the keyboard.

‘Steve, this is extraordinary,’ he replied, ‘listen to this: so I searched for ‘Loki Laufeyson’ on the system and nothing came up.’ His eyes flicked to Steve who looked perturbed, ‘but what I did find was ‘Loki Borson’, as in the son of Odin Borson, the business magnate, you know who I mean?’

‘The Odin Borson? Yeah, I know him. Didn’t his son die a few years back?’

‘Well that’s just it, turns out he had two sons.’

Steve’s eyebrow shot up, ‘What? That guy back there is Odin’s son?’

‘Yeah, well adopted, hence the change of last name. It says here he was also in the crash that killed the eldest son, Thor, but he survived. Suffered extensive bruising, fractured rib, so on and so forth.’ He scrolled down the file. ‘Voluntarily discharged himself two weeks after he was admitted. Then it seems he went completely off the radar. Cut ties with the family and was never heard of again. The mother, Frigga Borson, had his disappearance flagged as a missing person’s case.’

‘But none of this makes any sense. Why did he take off like that?’

Bucky shrugged. ‘Your guess is as good as mine.’

‘What happened to him?’

‘Well, that’s where it gets interesting!’ Bucky pulled up a chair and sat down next to Steve, ‘I called the landlord of the flat right, a guy named Vignesh Raja. Turns out Laufeyson actually did live there before Darcy Lewis moved in – nearly five years ago.’

‘So why five years later does he seem to think he still lives there?’ Steve questioned, ‘Was it the accident, knocked a screw loose?’

The excitement left Bucky’s eyes and a quiet sadness crept in.

‘To be honest,’ he sighed, ‘that might’ve been easier on the guy.’

He handed a sheet of paper to Steve and pointed.

‘Looks like we’ve got another one.’

Steve’s eyes grew wide in shock.

It was a death certificate.

 

 

 

‘What is it?’ Loki growled through clenched teeth, panic rising, ‘what’s going on?’

Neither of the officers spoke.

‘TELL ME!’ He roared, losing all composure.

‘Loki,’ Officer Rogers said slowly, ‘can you tell me today’s date?’

Loki huffed in frustration, ‘what does that have to do with anything?’

‘Today’s date,’ he pressed, ‘what is it?’

‘I don’t know, June? The 5th of June?’

‘And the year?’ Loki scoffed, ‘2011 of course.’

The officer looked grave, and placed a single sheet of paper on the table top, sliding it forward so Loki could read it.

‘Loki,’ he said, pausing to choose his words carefully, ‘the date today is the 20th of November, 2016. The date you just gave me was the day that you… the day that you killed yourself.’


	6. Act I: Chapter Six

Odin put a hand on the kitchen countertop to steady himself and let out a long exhale. It’s seemed unreal to the point of insanity that after five years of hoping and praying for his son’s return Thor was sat this very moment metres away in the next room, alive and well. It was all too much; he needed a moment to find composure.

 

Once they were out of he car, Frigga had collapsed to her knees at the sight of Thor standing before her. It took several seconds before Odin had the sensibility or even the strength to lift her up.

‘Mum, dad,’ Thor choked, unable to produce anything more coherent, as his parents clung desperately to him, the rain drenching them within minutes. Frigga traced her hands in wonder across Thor’s face. Odin wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it struck him that Thor looked remarkably unchanged from when he had last seen him despite the violence of the accident. Still, whatever strange alchemy or agency of the occult had brought him back, it was unmistakably his son.

Odin barely had the wherewithal to turn the car around and get them home. It felt like they were in a dream sequence. A film with missing frames.

As soon as they crossed the threshold of the house Frigga’s maternal instinct kicked in after five years in remission. On autopilot she hurried Thor upstairs to the bathroom where together she and Odin stripped their son of his wet clothes. Thor was too tired to feel embarrassed by his nakedness, and he sat on the edge of the bath, arms raised as Odin dragged his soaking wet t-shirt over his head. Frigga let out a quiet gasp.

A faint maze of scars covered Thor’s torso and back, his thighs, arms and legs. Long silver lines that could barely be seen in the low light, running across the musculature like delicate lightning bolts. The skin was not puckered or discoloured in any way, in fact the scars were the only indication of any physical trauma. Other than that Thor seemed to be in perfect health, strong and athletic as always, albeit physically and emotionally exhausted. It was a miracle if ever they had seen one.

Frigga saw that Thor was watching her, heavy lidded but with blue eyes locked on hers. Slowly she pressed the towel to his skin, and rubbed in small circles to dry him off. He closed his eyes when she began to towel his hair and leaned into her palm. She cast the towel aside and fumbled for Odin’s bathrobe which hung on the back of the door. Thor stood up as she reached to drape the robe around his shoulders, suddenly seeming to fill the room with his tall frame.

Beside her Odin reached down to collect their son’s wet clothes off the floor. From the corner of her eye Frigga saw him freeze.

‘Odin?’ She whispered.

He cleared his throat and stood upright.

‘Frigga,’ he said abruptly, ‘why don’t we go and get Thor some dry clothes?’

She nodded worriedly and glanced back at Thor as they stepped out into the hallway, half afraid that if she left the room the spell would be broken and she would return to find him gone.

Odin gripped her elbow and guided her into their bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind them. She spun round to speak but was caught off-guard by the wide-eyed smile that lit up her husband’s face, the first look of pure joy she had seen from him in five years.

‘You know what this means don’t you?’ He said, taking her by the shoulders. She nodded, overcome, laughing as the tears streamed down her face. Odin took her in his arms, holding her tight.

‘I can’t believe it,’ she whispered into his neck, ‘It’s actually happened.’

‘I told you it would,’ he planted a kiss on her cheek, ‘I told you he’d come home.’

She leant back to look at him, serious now.

‘How are we going to tell him?’

The smile left Odin’s face and he reached for Thor’s wet jeans. From the pocket he pulled out a small card, the ink smeared from the rain.

_To our darling Thor, gone but never forgotten. May you rest in peace._

Frigga gasped and put a hand to her mouth. Odin hushed her firmly, single eye flashing.

‘Let’s get him dry and settled first. Then we’ll find out how much he knows. Ok?’

 

It was with trembling hands that Frigga pushed open the door to Thor’s room, a place she hadn’t been in years. A thin layer of dust coated every surface, and she left a faint set of tracks as she crossed the room and quietly opened the draws to retrieve a set of dry clothes. On top of the wooden chest there was a small picture frame, the photo obscured by the dust. She skimmed her hand across to clean it, and was choked by a sudden ache of sadness to see her two sons smiling back at her from the not-so-distant past. And yet there for an instant, a distant hope flickered in her heart.

‘Loki…’ she shivered, running her thumb over his face, ‘come back to us.’

 

 

Downstairs in the kitchen Odin took a moment to gather himself. He reached for a glass from the cupboard and carried it into the drawing room to join the others. His son lay back on the sofa, head cradled in his mother’s lap. Had it been in different circumstances he might have made a disparaging comment about how grown men should behave, but in that moment this perfect image of familial bliss was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Thor sat up when he saw his father approach, mildly embarrassed, but Frigga stubbornly pulled him back into her embrace and he settled there. Odin planted a kiss on both their heads before pouring himself a small glass of scotch from the cabinet and settling into his armchair. The fire hissed and crackled, bathing the room in warm light.

He took a slow sip and looked up at his expectant companions, his uncovered eye glinting in the orange glow of the firelight. He pursed his lips together, wondering how best to begin. Slowly he lifted the card from his robe pocket and held it up between his middle and index fingers. Thor sat up properly this time.

‘Son, do you understand what has happened?’ Odin asked.

When Thor spoke his voice was low and husky from disuse.

‘I-I’m not sure.’

Odin hummed in acknowledgment and thought carefully about how to proceed. Across the hearth Frigga was watching him closely, her eyes heavy with concern.

‘What is the last thing you remember?’

Thor turned his gaze to the fireplace. His brain felt like it was submerged in fog. As the flames danced and flickered he tried to think back beyond waking up, but even now he could remember only darkness purged by a growing apex of light.

‘Waking up by the side of the road, out on the motorway.’

‘By the side of the motorway?’ Odin asked, his internal shock reflected on his wife’s face.

Thor nodded.

‘Is that where you found this?’ He held up the card again.

‘Yes.’

‘That was it? You woke up with no recollection of how you got there?’

Thor shook his head.

‘Do you know where you were?’

‘I’m not sure, somewhere out towards the Bifrost Bridge.’

Odin gulped, cold dread pooling in the pit of his stomach.

‘And you had nothing with you? No possessions at all?’

‘No, nothing.’

‘Ok, ok.’ Pensive, Odin took a sip of his drink. It burned as he swallowed, leaving a warmth which spread through his chest.

‘Dad, what’s going on? I mean the card, the flowers… It’s a mistake right? It has to be.’

Odin looked up and met his son’s eyes, intense and questioning, the deep blue punctuated by the reflection of the scintillating flames. Odin absentmindedly swirled the liquid in his glass. Despite the heat of the fire he could feel a cold sweat breaking out on the nape of his neck.

Odin finished his drink and set the glass down, preparing himself to break the news.

‘My son, what I am about to tell you hurts me beyond all words.’ He paused, mindful of the look of alarm on his son’s face. ‘But before I tell you what happened, you must know that your mother and I love you very much, and in spite of all that has passed we see you no differently now than we did before. You are our son Thor, no matter what.’

Thor’s brow furrowed in confusion, but he gave a small nod. Odin continued.

‘I’m afraid the card is no mistake. Those flowers you saw were a shrine that your mother and I made in your honour.’

‘What do you mean?’ Thor turned to look at Frigga, and saw the tears in her eyes crest and fall.

Odin sighed gravely, ‘Thor, the truth is… the spot where you woke up today is the very same place you were killed in a car crash almost five years ago.’

Thor gaped, wide-eyed and speechless. He shook his head.

‘No. There’s no way.’

‘Thor.’ Frigga pleaded softly.

‘No, it can’t be. It’s not possible.’ His heart rate was rising rapidly.

Slowly Thor felt two arms encircle his waist where his mother sat behind him on the sofa holding him close. The fog in his mind began to recede and pictures formed behind his eyelids, loose images that flickered and dissolved like an overhead projector in his brain. He saw it all play out before him: the road that stretched endlessly ahead, the feel of Loki’s hand as he held it on the gearstick, a pale figure illuminated beyond the windscreen and the flash of the headlights, a deafening noise and a great all-consuming darkness.

Now he understood.

Black spots swam on his vision and he choked on the acid bile that rose to the back of his throat. He closed his eyes, and tugged painfully at his hair, breathing hard.

_It’s ok_ , he heard somewhere above him, the slight tickle of breath on his ear and delicate fingers stroking his hair, soothing him. Two firm hands came to grip his arms. When he opened his eyes Odin was crouched in front of him and Frigga was sat behind rocking him methodically. Slowly but surely, the room stopped spinning.

‘How?’ He croaked, throat painfully constricted.

‘My son, you are one of the Returned.’ Odin took his hand and squeezed it, ‘one of the chosen ones.’

Thor shook his head, overwhelmed and unable to process his father’s words.

‘What do you mean?’ He stuttered, pulling at his hair again, the sharp pain grounding him through the chaos in his head. Frigga gently grasped his wrist and prized his hand away.

Odin stood up and sat beside him on the sofa, bracketing Thor between himself and Frigga.

‘Son, you won’t understand this straight away. It will take time to sink in. But please, listen carefully to what I tell you.’

Thor groaned and swayed. Frigga stroked his back, coaxing him softly to breath.

After a while Thor’s breathing slowed down and he sat up, eyes puffy and bloodshot. He accepted the glass of water Odin offered him with a shaky hand and took a small sip, spilling it slightly as he handed it back. His father waited patiently, before beginning his explanation.

‘It started about a year ago, strange occurrences in the city. Small things like missing cats returning home, dead flowers blooming back to life. We didn’t think anything of it at first, nature playing tricks on us. But then stranger things started happening. Things we couldn’t rationalise anymore.’

Odin paused and glanced at Frigga who nodded at him discretely to go on.

‘It began with whispers, sightings of men and women believed long gone. Missing children found their way home, not a day older than when they’d last been seen. Teenagers, adults, men and women cut down in their prime. From one day to the next they simply ‘woke up’ in the place where they….the place from where they had been taken. All across the country, slowly but surely the deceased began to return.’

Thor stared at his father, unable to speak.

‘Not all the deceased though, only a select few. At first there was no logic, no obvious cause. But then a pattern began to emerge. All those who returned had died in the same year, the year 2011. What the significance of that particular year is, I couldn’t tell you. No one knows definitively what it means. Of course there have been thousands of conspiracy theories. Some cited it as ancient magic, others called it an act of God. There were even those who believed it was a government plot to control the masses. Of course we know that isn’t true.’

Odin’s lips curved into a small smile.

‘At first we were afraid, we didn’t know what to make of it all. It seemed so inexplicable, something deeply supernatural that we had never seen before. But then Frigga and I came to understand that it was in fact a miracle - a blessing - that you had died within the twelve months in question. Ever since then we have been desperately hoping for your return.’

Odin enveloped his wife and his son in a warm embrace. Thor melted into it, body weak.

‘And here you are,’ Frigga whispered, clasping her family close to her, ‘at last our son has come home.’

As they huddled together in the warmth of the fire, peace finally descended upon Thor.

On the coffee table Odin’s phone suddenly buzzed to life, glowing blue in the low light. Grumbling he tore himself away from his family and picked it up. His remaining eye widened slightly and he turned to them.

‘It’s Cedric Foster,’ he explained hurriedly, ‘he’ll be at the restaurant now, wondering where we are.’

Frigga sat up, ‘will you tell him what’s happened?’

Odin paused for a heartbeat.

‘Not tonight,’ he said, ‘there will be questions, and a lot of explaining to do. But not yet, tonight is for family.’

Frigga laughed and gave Thor a joyful squeeze as Odin left the room.

‘Who’s Cedrick Foster?’ he asked, turning to her.

‘Your father’s new business partner. He’ll explain everything in time,’ she smiled, brushing a strand of blonde hair out of his eyes, ‘we’ll fill you in on all that you’ve missed.’

Thor stared at her intently, a crease forming in his brow.

‘What is it?’ She asked, ‘what’s the matter?’

His eyes flitted momentarily to the door as Odin’s voice floated in from the hallway. He shifted his weight to face her head on.

‘Mum,’ he murmured, ‘tell me now, before dad gets back.’

‘Tell you what?’

He flinched. ‘What happened to Loki?’

A stab of grief seized Frigga’s gut and she squeezed her eyes shut.

‘Did dad let him come home again after... after what happened?’

She felt Thor’s breath ghost across her face. His fingers came to grip her wrist. When he spoke his voice was an urgent whisper.

‘Mum, I need you to tell me. Did he survive the crash?’

Frigga glanced to the door and back. Thor’s expression was fraught with anguish, his grip vice-like. It was beginning to hurt.

‘Mum?’

She exhaled sharply. ‘He survived the crash.’

Thor let go of her wrist and leaned back, letting out a sigh of relief.

‘Thank god he’s ok.’

Frigga sat frozen, unsure how to continue. She wiped her eyes.

‘Thor, there is something you need to know.’

Thor waited, tense, expectant.

‘What is it?’ He asked, ‘where is he? Is he in trouble?’

Frigga shook her head, fresh tears forming in her eyes. Dread charged through Thor’s body.

‘Mum,’ he whispered, eyes searching hers for a sign, ‘whatever it is, just say it.’

Frigga took her son’s hand and squeezed it tight. ‘A few months after you passed away, Loki…’

‘Loki what? Say it.’

She took a deep breath and gathered her strength. ‘Loki killed himself.’


	7. Act I: Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being slow with this chapter, and thank you to everyone who is keeping up with the story, you guys are the best!

**Six months before the crash, six years before the return.**

Thor lies back on the lounger, eyes closed, enjoying the sun as it pours across his skin. As Sif’s laughter, the boys’ chatter and the distant sizzle of the barbeque float in the air around him, he feels wholly contended. It has become something of an unspoken tradition now, that whenever his parents are away for a long conference over the weekend Sif and the boys will come round and make the most of a free house.

Suddenly, a great splash and the slap of water hitting his face have Thor sitting bolt upright gaping like a fish. A moment later he sees Volstagg break the surface of the pool with a gasp, followed by the others’ roaring laughter.

‘Sorry,’ Volstagg calls to him sheepishly whilst treading water, ‘I couldn’t resist.’

‘You bastard,’ Thor mutters as he makes a show of shaking the water off himself, but there’s no anger to it.

Sif and Volstagg are roughhousing in the pool, their raucous laughter filling the air. Hogun stands quietly to the side, tending the barbeque. Hogun’s a complete enigma, so fierce and formidable on the sports field, and yet in life the most reserved and peaceful person Thor has ever met. Volstagg on the other hand makes enough noise for the both of them, with his booming voice and his hearty laugh that seems to erupt from the very depth of his chest. He’s a couple of years older than the rest of them, and has already left school, but they’ve continued to play football together ever since. Sif is the newest addition to their friendship group, and what a relief it was to finally have some feminine energy in the mix. Not that it makes a difference half the time, Sif is often the first to get the roughhousing going. But she is highly intelligent, and elegant when she wants to be, and the boys are slightly more refined when she’s around. And Thor finds her very, very attractive. And then there’s Fandral. He and Fandral go way back, they went to primary school together years before they met the others. He’s brash and immature, and he can be a dick sometimes when the mood takes him, but he’s a solid friend, always there when Thor needs him. And although he likes to wind up Loki, Thor knows Loki has a soft spot for him. Where his brother remains cold and distant when Thor and his friends are at the house together, sometimes he walks into a room and catches Loki and Fandral deep in conversation, in a way that he and Loki seldom communicate anymore. He would never admit that he was jealous, but it plays on his mind. Loki he has known the longest, and yet his brother is the biggest enigma of them all.

Fandral jumps out of the water, dripping all over the patio tiling. He grabs a couple of beers from the ice bucket, hands one to Thor and then takes up the recliner beside him. They chink glasses and look out across the garden.

‘Where’s Loki?’ Fandral asks.

‘Holed up in his room, as usual.’

‘See if he wants to join us.’

Thor gives Fandral a pointed look, ‘He hates people. And he’s practically allergic to the sun. He’ll never come out.’

‘He doesn’t hate people.’ Fandral replies, ‘he finds people fascinating.’

It’s one of those strangely loaded comments that has prickles forming on the back of Thor’s neck, but he lets it go and takes a slow sip of his beer, relishing the cool liquid as it slides down his throat.

‘Hey troublemakers,’ Sif calls, slinking up to them with a beer in hand. Thor lets his eyes roam across her body, lean and athletic, absolutely gorgeous. Sif sees him looking and smiles proudly. She perches on his lap and leans back against his bare chest. Her drenched bikini bottoms soak into the deep red fabric of his boxers, but he doesn’t mind. The feel of skin on skin has his mind racing, and he brings up a hand to stroke at her arm.

Fandral knocks back the rest of his beer and stands up. He takes a run and a jump, and dive-bombs into the pool, splashing Thor all over again with a shriek from Sif. Volstagg high-fives Fandral when he comes back up to the surface, the two of them bobbing and laughing.

Now that they are alone Sif turns slightly on Thor’s lap and leans down to kiss him, her wet black hair falling against his shoulder and her lips parting to let in his tongue. He can feel his arousal growing from the slightest of touches. Sif feels it beneath her and smiles, rolling her eyes. But she leans in to kiss him deeper this time and he grips her hip tightly, kneading the bone with his thumb.

‘Upstairs?’ She asks a little breathlessly, and he nods, feeling the rush of cold air on his damp skin as she stands for him to get up. They try to exit without drawing attention to themselves, but just when they think they’ve made it into the house undetected, they hear Fandral call behind them, ‘Oi, oi!’

Thor smiles and shakes his head.

‘Ignore them,’ he says to Sif in case she is spooked, but she takes his hand confidently and leads him up the stairs to his bedroom. Anticipation has him going crazy and it doesn’t take long for Sif to slide out of her sopping bikini which lands with an unceremonious thud on his floor. Thor is about to laugh but before he knows it her hands are tugging at the waistline of his trunks, pulling them down to his ankles. He pulls her onto the bed and flips them over so she is lying underneath him, black hair spilling across the pillow, moaning softly as his takes a delicate nipple between his teeth and applies the tiniest amount of pressure. Her skin is the familiar sweet scent of vanilla that Thor has grown to crave.

‘Thor,’ she whispers in his ear as his trails ardent kisses up from her solar plexus and down the length of a vein in her neck. He continues until he reaches her lips, grinding his hips down into hers.

‘Thor,’ she breathes into the kiss, ‘where are the condoms?’

‘Top draw,’ he replies gruffly, sucking hard on her nipple again as she leans over to fumble for them. She laughs and bats him away, but as she turns over to reach for them he plants kisses along the graceful curve of her spine.

‘None there,’ she huffs, turning back to him. He breaks off and looks up, confused.

‘I bought a new pack last week.’ He leans over her to reach into the drawer and finds it empty.

‘Loki,’ he mutters under his breath and exhales in annoyance. He kisses her cheek once and moves to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling his damp trunks back on. The material is cold and uncomfortable, and he awkwardly arranges his semi to make it less obvious.

‘I’ll be back in a sec,’ he says to her, ‘don’t move a muscle.’

She giggles and flunks back down on to the sheets.

Out in the corridor Thor can hear the sound of music coming from under the crack of Loki’s door. He hears Loki’s voice float over the melody.

‘I would go out tonight, but I haven’t got a stitch to wear...’

Loki’s got a decent voice, Thor thinks, but he only sings when he thinks he’s alone. Thor knocks on the door but there is no response, the music drowning out the sound. He knocks harder, but still Loki doesn’t hear. Irritated, he shoves the door open.

‘Loki, what the fuck? You could at least ask before you take-’

He is cut off by the sight before him. Loki in the centre of the room, swaying freely in one of their mother’s black evening gowns. His arms are poised loosely above his head, eyes closed, lost in the music. The door snaps shuts and Loki spins round, locking eyes with Thor. He freezes like a deer in the headlights. There is an infinite beat, where neither knows how to react. Thor just stares at him, speechless. Loki comes to first and hastily crosses the room to switch off the music. His footsteps are ungainly and staccato and… is he wearing Frigga’s heels? The music cuts off, plunging them into an awful silence. Loki is resolutely looking away from Thor, and he looks to be on the verge of tears. The dress hangs awkwardly off his body, one strap slipping down off his pale shoulder where there is no breast to fill the fabric.

‘Loki…’ Thor starts to say, but he is at a loss for words.

‘Tell the others and I’ll kill you.’ Loki retorts, but the words fall feebly off his tongue and evaporate in the air between them. Thor watches a solitary tear slide down his cheek. He has the urge to wipe it away with his thumb but he is rooted to the spot.

‘Can you leave now?’ Loki asks weakly.

‘Loki, I-’

‘Just go.’

Thor stands there for a moment, mind reeling.

‘Fuck off!’ Loki screams, meeting his stare for the first time with green eyes ablaze. That snaps Thor out of it. He backs out of the room and shuts the door behind him. Out in the hall he stands there for a minute, knocked for six by what he has just witnessed.

A few metres away his bedroom door opens and Sif pokes her head out, wearing his red football shirt.

‘Thor, is everything ok?’ She asks.

He nods and strides over to usher her quickly back inside. She climbs onto the bed and lifts the top over her head, grinning.

‘Did you get them?’

Thor frowns. ‘Get what?’

She sighs, ‘the condoms you idiot. Did you get them off Loki?’

Thor blinks, brain elsewhere. ‘No,’ he mumbles at last, ‘he didn’t have them.’

‘Oh.’ She says, disappointed. ‘Well I can nip out and get some. Do you have any cash?’

Thor sits on the edge of the bed and lowers his head into his hands.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ She asks, frustrated. Thor rubs at his eyes and groans.

‘I’m just not really in the mood anymore,’ he places a hand on her bare thigh, ‘I’m sorry.’

She frowns and moves to sit back against the headboard, out of his reach.

‘Well aren’t you a bundle of fun today?’

He sighs and leans into his hands again. Sif relents and crawls up behind him, placing a gentle kiss at the nape of his neck.

‘It’s alright,’ she says, snaking her arms around his waist, ‘if you don’t feel like it we can do this another time.’

Thor smiles wearily and turns his head to kiss her lips. They redress and leave to head back downstairs again. Out in the hall it’s deathly quiet, there is no music coming from Loki’s room.


	8. Act I: Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has a lot to take in...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger warnings** for this chapter: Loki's suicide is referenced throughout, with a brief but graphic description right at the very beginning. It comes in the second paragraph in italics. If you don't want to read it, skip down to the line that begins: 'Loki rested his head on the cool stone wall'. Please stay safe and don't read if it's not a good idea for you to do so. This is a piece of fiction and not intended to cause anyone harm. 
> 
> With that said, I'd like to say another massive thank you to everyone who has been keeping up with the story. You guys are amazing! Your kudos and comments make my whole week, so please keep them coming. Feedback, concrit and suggestions are always welcome. Where would you like to see the story go? Let me know!

**Present day: five years after the crash, the day of the Return.**

Loki put a hand on the wall to steady himself and fought the urge to be sick. Memories flashed in quick succession behind his eyelids.

_The first cut, the gush of crimson blood stark against his pale skin. It poured down his arm, soaking into the white bedsheets and billowing out across the fabric. The pain was fierce, the adrenaline a rush. The second wrist was harder. He dropped the razor a couple of times, fishing for it in the red damp linen, his palms pink with blood. His hands shook, and it was difficult to get a proper grip. But in the end he got it, and collapsed back as the blood flowed, watching the black spots float in front of his eyes, leaving him lightheaded. It was beyond his control now and that made him calm. And then, as the darkness slowly began to creep in and numbness spread upwards through his heavy limbs, he thought he could almost make out Thor’s face in the mist. He closed his eyes and let the darkness take him._

Loki rested his head on the cool stone wall and let out a long, low moan.

_Hey_ , a hand on his back, _hey Loki are you ok?_ Loki fell back against a sturdy frame that guided him to his seat and settled him there. He put his head between his knees as another wave of nausea came upon him. _Don’t touch me_ , he whispered, as the tears trickled down his cheeks, cool against his burning skin. Someone placed a bin in his hands and he heaved into it, choking against the bitter bile that scorched his throat.

As he leaned back he caught sight of something on his skin. On the inner flesh of his wrist there was a mark, a thick silvery scar that meandered across his veins. He traced his fingers across it. Smooth, and warm. He inspected the other wrist, and there again, a jagged, iridescent line.

He didn’t know how long he stayed that way, but in time the low hum of the air conditioning swam into his consciousness, and the gentle breeze ruffled his long black hair. Slowly he uncurled.

Officer Rogers, who was sat opposite him, pushed a glass of water across the table and waited for him to settle. Loki scrubbed at his cheeks, red and tear-streaked.

‘Why?’ He said at last, voice weak.

Officer Rogers shook his head sadly.

‘I wish I could answer all your questions but I’ve told you about all I know. It’s as much a mystery to us as it is to you, why some people have returned and what it all means.’

‘Are there many of us?’ Loki’s voice trembled.

‘It’s hard to say. Registered – in this country - there’s about a hundred cases, if that.’

‘And all of us died in the same year?’

‘That’s right. No one who died before or since has come back.’

The cogs in Loki’s brain were spinning wildly. What if Thor… that was a very dangerous line of thought. Very dangerous indeed.

‘But I should tell you,’ the officer hastened to add, ‘that not everyone who died in that year has come back. Only a handful. Some believe the chosen few.’

Loki blinked.

‘Why me?’ he asked.

Officer Rogers sighed. ‘This has never been confirmed, so don’t hold me to this, but the word on the street is that all those who have returned have come back for a reason.’

‘What reason?’

The officer shrugged. ‘You tell me.’

‘How could I possibly know?’ Loki spat. He was exhausted and overwhelmed, and it made him volatile. Still, Officer Rogers carried on unperturbed.

‘One theory is that those who’ve returned had a situation in life that remained unresolved at the time of death. Wrongs that needed to be made right. Unfinished business of some sort that meant they could not rest in peace.’ He paused, looking grave. ‘Do you have unfinished business Loki?’

Loki gave a humourless laugh. ‘That depends.’

‘On what?’

‘Well I _thought_ I was finishing it. It was supposed to end when I died.’

Officer Rogers shifted in his seat. ‘Loki, if you’re in trouble you can tell us. Whatever it is, we can get you help.’

Loki shook his head. ‘It’s too late for that.’

Officer Rogers opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it.

Loki sat back and exhaled shakily. ‘So what happens now?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Well now you _know_ I wasn’t breaking and entering. Can I leave?’

‘Well I’m afraid it’s not that simple,’ Officer Rogers pulled some files out of a nearby cabinet and handed them to Loki, ‘you’ll need to officially register as ‘returned’ in order to – if you’ll excuse the choice of words – return to the life you had before. At the moment you are still on record as officially deceased. As far as the state is concerned, you have no status, you don’t exist. Once your file has been processed you’ll be issued with a new ID card and your National Insurance number will be reinstated. From there you’ll be free to apply for a passport, get health insurance, renew your driver’s license and so on. Everything you need to carry on with your life.’

Loki squinted at the lengthy black print that swam across the pages and gulped.

‘It’s not as bad as it sounds,’ Officer Rogers conceded, offering Loki a reassuring smile, ‘it’s similar to registering a birth or a death, apart from this is a rebirth as such.’

Loki gave him an icy glare and the officer’s smile faltered.

‘Look it will be ok, I promise. We can fill out the form together, it’ll be quicker that way. Then I’ll forward it to the Register Office. No harm done.’

‘How long will it take to complete?’

‘About three months.’

Loki balked. ‘Three months? I can’t wait that long!’

‘It’s a complex process,’ Officer Rogers countered, ‘it requires a lot of background research, retrieving data, reopening closed accounts. But the good news is that once it’s all done you can go back to the life you had before. Pick up where you left off.’

‘That’s the problem,’ Loki muttered, looking away as a lump formed in his throat.

Officer Rogers leaned forward and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. ‘Hey, don’t despair. Look at this as a new start, a clean slate.’

Loki nodded and hastily dabbed his eyes with his sleeve against the tears that threatened to fall.

‘Will my family find out that I’m back? My adoptive family I mean.’

‘Well, since you’re over eighteen it’s up to you whether or not the authorities inform your parents of your return.’

‘I’m not over eighteen, not for a few weeks.’

‘Yes but Loki…that was nearly five years ago. You’re technically twenty-two now, pushing twenty-three. Or at least that’s what will go down on record.’

Loki shook his head, unable to process it all. ‘So five years of my life, gone just like that?’

Officer Roger let out an exasperated huff.

‘At least you came back. The vast majority of people don’t have that chance. You’re one of the lucky ones.’

‘Am I?’

‘Well yes!’ Officer Rogers exclaimed, ‘you have a second chance at life, how is that not lucky?’

‘Because it wasn’t supposed to be like this!’ Loki lurched forward, ‘I killed myself! Do you understand that? I took my own life, because it wasn’t worth living. And all of a sudden I’m back. This couldn’t be further from what I wanted.’

‘Whatever it was that you were facing, whatever obstacles were in your way, that was five years ago. They’re gone now!’ the officer’s voice softened, ‘This is your chance to start again, to do it right this time.’

‘Can’t you see?’ Loki sobbed, ‘it’s all the fucking same. Nothing’s changed.’

‘How do you know that?’ the officer reasoned, ‘unless you go out in the world and see for yourself? As I said, it’s up to you whether or not we tell your parents that you’re back.’

Loki’s expression hardened. Officer Rogers paused.

‘I know it’s tough after all this time, but I’d strongly recommend you reach out to them-’

‘No!’ Loki snarled, green eyes full of rage.

‘But they’re your _parents_. They’ll want to know you’re alive.’

‘They’re not my parents.’ He said coldly.

‘Loki, whatever it is that happened between you and your family, it’s not too late to-‘

‘IT IS FOR ME!’

Loki was on his feet, breathing hard. There was a tense moment as the two men stared each other out. Stiffly he lowered himself back into his chair. A strange expression flitted across Officer Rogers’ face.

‘This is about Thor isn’t it?’

The colour drained from Loki’s face as he visibly deflated. It had been a long time since he’d heard his brother’s name said out loud and the unexpectedness of it wrenched his heart.

‘What do you know about that?’ He asked in a quiet voice.

‘Nothing, I just… I saw on the system that he died, shortly before…you know. And I guessed that must have something to do with… your decision.’

Loki’s breathing came shallow and fast. He whined low in his throat.

‘It’s ok, we don’t have to talk about it,’ the officer said hastily, trying to calm him down, ‘I had no business bringing it up, I’m sorry.’

Loki looked up at him. ‘Do you know if Thor is back too?’

‘Even if I did know, I’m not at liberty to share that information with you. I’m sorry.’

‘Please,’ Loki pleaded, green eyes watering again.

Officer Rogers chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking.

‘Wait here,’ he said at last, ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

Loki watched the door close behind him. His brain scrambled, thought patterns chasing themselves in frenzied circles.

What if Thor was back? Fuck, could he be? He _had_ died in the chosen year, just a few months before Loki. But the officer said not all the dead had returned. But it was still possible wasn’t it? Improbable. But not impossible. And what would that mean if Thor was alive? It would free Loki of the guilt that had weighed him down ever since the crash, punishing him until he sought a desperate release. None of this was part of the plan, but if Officer Rogers was right, then maybe he _did_ have unfinished business… with Thor. It all made sense now. He would seek him out, go to him, make a mends. They could be together again, this time on their own terms. Live life as new people, with different names, different identities, different pasts… no one would know their secret. They would be completely free.

The click of the closing door broke Loki from his thoughts. He sat up hurriedly in anticipation. But as he turned around the look on Officer Rogers’ face said it all.

‘Loki, I’m sorry,’ he whispered, ‘according to the system, Thor is still dead.’

Loki’s hopes came crashing down around him like rubble and dust. He couldn’t breathe.

Officer Rogers cast his eyes down, struggling to find the words to say. ‘Loki,’ he mumbled at length, ‘do you have anywhere to stay?’

Loki said nothing, eyes unfocused. The officer put a hand on his shoulder. Loki blinked.

‘Do you have anywhere to stay?’ He repeated, ‘any friends who might be able to put you up for a few weeks?’

_Friends?_ Loki shook his head.

Officer Rogers glanced at the two-way mirror and the microphone on the table.

‘Come,’ he said, getting up.

Loki was slow to cooperate, but in the end he managed to lead him to an unused meeting room down the corridor.

‘Officer Rogers, I-’

‘Call me Steve,’ the officer replied, picking up a pen and paper.

‘Off the record,’ he said in hushed tones, ‘I know somebody who might be able to help you out. Her name is Natasha, we go back a long way. Here, go to this address,’ he said scribbling it hurriedly down, ‘ask for Natasha Romanoff and say Steve sent you. Ok?’

Loki took the piece of paper. The address was quite a distance away.

‘It’ll take you the best part of a day to get there by bus. Here, you’ll need some cash.’ He produced a small wad of notes from his wallet and handed them to Loki. ‘I’ll call you there, in a few months when your ID card comes through. After that we can take a look at some rehabilitation schemes to get you back on your feet. Don’t do anything hasty before then, Ok?’

Loki stared at him. ‘Why are you doing this?’

Steve paused. ‘Because once, a long time ago, I was given a second chance at life, and…’ he trailed off, struggling with the memories, ‘take it from me, you’ve got to put the wrongs right while you can, or before you know it you’ve run out of time.’

 

 

 

It was on shaky legs that Loki finally left the police station. Utterly exhausted, he dragged his body through the streets in search of the bus station under Steve’s direction. He kept spacing out as he walked, consumed by his thoughts. He was far from home and didn’t recognise these parts. Eventually he found himself crossing the Bifrost Bridge that stretched across the river to the other side of the city. In these wee hours the dawn was on the verge of breaking, bathing everything in a purplish blue light.

Loki stopped in the centre of the colossal bridge, looking out at the horizon. He lit up a cigarette - his first purchase of his new second-life - and inhaled. From here he could see across the whole city, the vast expanse of twinkling street lights that stretched out into the night. In a few hours people would be waking up, ready to start the day and Loki would be faced with a world that had definitively moved on without him. He now existed only as a memory in people’s minds. He imagined that all his books and possessions had been sold, his clothes given away, photographs of him packed up in boxes and put in storage. His name would scarcely be mentioned, and those who knew him would think of him less and less with each passing year, until eventually he was all but forgotten. Right now he was looking down at a world which no longer knew him, a society to which he contributed nothing, a community in which he had no place and no significance.

Somewhere, far beyond the sprawling metropolis he could just about make out the distant lights of home. He thought of Thor then and his heart ached.

Why had he come back and not Thor? What was his purpose, if not to be with him? What other wrong was there greater than that, that he, Loki, could put right? Here on this bridge, he couldn’t be more than a few miles from where the crash had taken place.

His mind wandered to the devastation he had left behind and goose bumps broke out across his arms. Who must have found his body? How long until he had been found? He thought then of his mother. He imagined Frigga’s face when she was told her second son had died, while she was still in the throes of grieving the first. It would probably almost have broken her. He imagined what she must look like now, the sparkle in her eyes permanently extinguished. He desperately hoped that she would not think that it was her fault. He should have left a note. Why didn’t he leave one?

His mind at the time had been so full of white noise he couldn’t think about anything except dying. He was fixated on it, consumed by it, nothing else held meaning for him anymore.

And what about Odin? The dark voice in him had him convinced that Odin would have relished his death, _a weak end for a weakling_. But deep down he knew that wasn’t true. Odin was vengeful but he was not a sadist.

Loki shivered. Here on this bridge, he felt lost and alone. Anonymous.

He took one last drag of his cigarette and flicked it over the edge, watching as it disappeared into the black swirling water below. He clambered up onto the railing and swung his legs over, knuckles white as he clung on behind him. The wind was strong up here, and several strands of his long, raven black hair whipped up around his face.

A strange sense of calm descended upon Loki, not unlike how he felt before, when he’d decided that he was going to die. It seemed like such a logical decision at the time, as if once he knew that everything else was so simple. Except this time it would hurt no one, because no one even knew he was back. He closed his eyes and leant forward.

‘Sir, are you ok?’

A voice came from behind him and he looked over his shoulder, startled.

‘Excuse me sir. Are you ok?’

A worried looking woman in jogging gear was approaching him hesitantly, one arm outstretched as if to pull him back.

‘It’s dangerous up there, you should get down. Here, let me help you.’

‘No,’ he replied, ‘I’m fine thank you.’

‘Will you get down from there?’ She asked, and then in a pleading tone, ‘please?’

Loki looked back out across the water, pondering for a moment. Slowly he swung his legs back over the side of the bridge and jumped, landing safely on the pavement.

The woman looked relieved and smiled, letting out the breath she had been holding.

‘Is there anyone I can call for you?’ she asked, once they were over the bridge. Do you need help getting home?’

‘No thank you,’ he said again.

‘Are you sure?’ Loki nodded in assurance. ‘Oh there is one thing you can help me with though,’ he asked as an afterthought.

‘Yes, of course.’

He pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and pointed.

‘How do I get to the S.H.I.E.L.D nightclub from here?’


	9. Act I: Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up from where the flashback in chapter 7 left off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, hope you had a wonderful Halloween weekend! For anyone recovering from the madness of last night, get comfy wherever you are and enjoy the next instalment of our story =)

**The past: Six months before the crash, six years before the return.**

As the evening wears on Thor is restless. They mess around in the pool until it gets cold, and then pile indoors to the warmth of the drawing room. Maybe it’s a combination of being in the sun all day and drinking back to back beers but he has a headache coming on and his mood is falling flat. Loki has been on his mind all afternoon, he can’t shake the image out of his head. The black, velvet cocktail dress, the heels, the crestfallen look on Loki’s face. He looked as if he was expecting Thor’s anger, but more than that, his utter disappointment. There’s something about the whole thing that Thor finds deeply unsettling and it has him distracted, only half in the present moment.

The Warriors Three seem content to leave him to his thoughts; they know sometimes he retreats inside his own head and it doesn’t worry them. But Sif is growing impatient, he can tell by the concerned, sideways glances she has been giving him all evening. She wants to snap him out of it, for him to grace them all with his undivided attention. He owes them that much, he’s invited them here after all. He does try, but his thoughts keep wandering back to his brother.

Once they’ve ordered pizza and the others have settled on bean bags in front of the TV to watch the football, Thor takes the opportunity to sneak upstairs and knock on Loki’s door. He listens carefully for signs of life but there is no response. Cautiously, he cracks the door open, afraid that Loki will start yelling again. But the room is dark and completely empty. He blinks in surprise. Loki must have slunk out the front door while they were swimming out the back. Thor is almost offended that Loki didn’t ask his permission; he’s the one in loco parentis here while their parents are away. He’s also worried sick that Loki will have gotten himself into trouble while he was supposed to be watching him.

Thor marches into his room and snatches his phone off the desk, flicking through his contacts for Loki’s number. His brother picks up after a few too many rings.

‘Yeah?’ Loki’s voice comes through the receiver, filling Thor with relief.

‘Where the fuck are you?’ He snaps, because he’s anxious and by default with Loki it comes out as vitriol.

‘Why the fuck do you care?’ Loki snaps back, immediately on the defensive, and just like that they are back to their familiar bickering.

‘Because mum and dad told me to keep an eye on you, asshole.’

‘Well fuck you, I don’t need a baby sitter.’

Thor sighs. He is beyond tired, and doesn’t want to play this game.

‘Loki, just tell me where you are.’

Thor hears Loki take a long inhale of his cigarette and exhale again for dramatic effect.

‘No.’ He croaks at last.

‘Loki.’ Thor says with a warning tone.

Loki chuckles under his breath, and it irks Thor even more. ‘God, you sound like Odin.’

The comment really gets under Thor’s skin, but he takes a deep breath and remembers his mother’s words: He’s just winding you up Thor. He’s sixteen, you’re eighteen, you should know better than to rise to it.

‘Tell me where you are.’

‘No,’ Loki says again, and he’s hung up.

‘You little-’ Thor presses redial but this time it goes straight through to voicemail. He growls in frustration and slams the phone down on the desk, wishing he could wring Loki’s skinny neck. He’s knows Loki is doing this to get back at him for his humiliation earlier, but it’s uncalled for and he’s acting like a dick.

Thor retreats back downstairs when the pizza arrives, but there’s a serious rain cloud above his head now and it’s unlikely to shift for the rest of his evening. The other’s see it all over his face.

‘Loki?’ Fandral guesses, reading his thoughts. ‘He’s fucked off and he won’t tell me where.’

Fandral rolls his eyes, digging into a bite of pizza. ‘You know what he’s like,’ he says mouth full, ‘you can’t force Loki to do anything. Give him a rule and he has to break it. It’s like a fucking impulse.’

Thor resents Fandral telling him what his own brother is like, but deep down he knows he’s right.

‘Well it’s pretty fucking selfish,’ he grumbles anyway, ‘he knows if anything happens to him I’m gonna get it in the neck from mum and dad.’

‘He’ll be alright,’ Sif says stroking Thor’s arm, ‘he’s very independent. You worry too much.’

‘You don’t know that,’ he spits, and regrets it as soon as he sees the shadow flit across Sif’s face.

‘I’m sorry,’ he relents, stroking her hand with his thumb, ‘I’m just pissed off, it’s not your fault.’

There’s a tense beat, and a ripple in Sif’s jaw.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says again, pulling her closer to him on the sofa. She gives him a pissed-off look, but eventually her shoulders relax and she leans into his side.

‘Come on,’ Volstagg says cheerily handing Thor a pizza box, ‘it’s nothing a Meat Supreme can’t fix.’

 

 

 

Thor sleeps fitfully and wakes early, leaving Sif asleep in bed. He gently extricates himself from her limbs which causes her to mumble something and roll over, falling back into a deep sleep. The house is quiet as he emerges onto the landing. He checks once to see if Loki is in his room, but it is still empty, the morning light flooding in from the open curtains. Downstairs he sees Fandral and Volstagg sprawled across the sofas, snoring lightly. Hogun is up and dressed, tidying away pizza boxes and beer cans discretely around them. He nods to Thor as he appears in the door way, rubbing his eyes.

They go for a run together around the neighbourhood and it feels good to have the wind on his skin. Hogun has never been much of a talker, and they fall into a companionable silence, save for the rhythmic sound of their breathing. Thor thinks back to Loki, standing before him in Frigga’s black dress, and it troubles him for reasons he can’t place.

When they get back the others are up and chatting happily in the kitchen over tea and toast.

‘There you are,’ Volstagg exclaims as they walk in, sweaty and breathless. Sif flashes Thor a sweet smile which he returns.

As the afternoon rolls into early evening his friends say their goodbyes, all piling into the back of Volstagg’s car. Sif is the last to leave, giving Thor a tender kiss, much to Fandral’s amusement, before she climbs into the passenger’s seat in the front. Thor waves them off and heads back inside, his heart sinking again. He tries to call Loki a couple more times but it goes straight to voicemail, his efforts futile.

By the time he hears the keys in the front door he is half frantic, mentally readying himself for his parents’ wrath over Loki’s disappearance.

‘Hey sweetie,’ Frigga says as she walks through the front door, ‘how are you?’

‘Fine,’ he replies, leaning stiffly forwards to kiss her. Odin follows just behind with a large suitcase which Thor goes to take off his hands.

‘Where’s your brother?’ She asks, smiling. Thor’s mouth goes dry.

‘He’s er…’ His mother frowns. ‘H-he-’

‘I’m here,’ Loki calls, emerging from the back door that leads onto the garden. The little shit must have jumped the fence, Thor thinks.

Check mate.

Loki looks a little tired and he’s wearing yesterday’s shirt, but he’s composed and poised as always, giving nothing away.

‘Come here,’ Frigga says, placing a kiss on his forehead. Thor angrily catches Loki’s eye but his brother’s poker face is set to perfection.

 

 

Over dinner Odin goes rambling on about their weekend conference, and the ins and outs of on-trade and off-trade retailing. Thor loses track very quickly, and he makes no effort to regain the thread of the conversation. He can’t stop stealing glances at Loki across the table. His eyes glaze over with the remembrance of those pale, slim shoulders in the black dress.

‘Thor,’ Odin says gruffly, snapping him out of it, ‘your mother asked you a question.’

All eyes are on him, including Loki’s.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says turning to her, ‘what did you say?’

She smiles and puts her cutlery down. ‘I said you’re very quiet this evening, is everything ok?’

Thor looks at Loki then, who is staring intently at him, a subtle crinkle in his brow that betrays his nerves, willing Thor not to tell.

‘Yeah,’ Thor answers, turning back to Frigga, ‘I’m just tired, that’s all.’ On his peripheral vision he sees Loki’s shoulders relax slightly and when he looks at him full on he sees his eyes have softened.

‘The boys came round,’ he says, switching the subject, ‘we jumped in the pool, had a BBQ, watched a match. It was pretty chilled.’

‘That’s nice darling,’ Frigga coos.

‘And Sif?’ Odin asks. Thor swallows his food down, trying to look nonchalant. ‘Yeah, she came too.’

Odin chuckles and slaps Thor roundly on the back, ‘No wonder the boy’s tired!’

‘Odin!’ Frigga admonishes, ‘that’s hardly table talk.’

‘What? It’s true! She’s a good girl, Sif,’ he says assertively, ‘she’s switched on, knows what she wants in life. I like that about her.’

‘Thanks dad.’

‘And she very pretty, I’ll give you that!’ He nudges Thor with his elbow so that Thor drops half the forkful of food he is lifting to his mouth.

‘That’s quite enough,’ Frigga shoots them both a warning look, but Odin winks his uncovered eye suggestively and Thor grins.

‘Honestly you two,’ Frigga sighs, ‘Loki, maybe you can help me drag this conversation out the gutter. What did you get up to this weekend?’

Loki slumps his shoulders self-consciously as he often does when speaking in front of Odin.

‘A bit of drawing, nothing much.’

‘Oh. Didn’t fancy getting out the house?’

‘Yeah, I went round to Theo’s for a bit.’

Thor bristles with surprise and a slight jolt of jealousy at this unknown name. He realises a little ashamedly that he’d assumed Loki didn’t have any friends.

‘Theo! How is he?’ Frigga asks.

‘Fine.’

‘Who’s Theo?’ Odin cuts in.

‘Loki’s special friend.’ Frigga says knowingly. Thor stops chewing mid mouthful.

‘He’s just a friend,’ Loki adds quickly, glancing up at Odin’s disapproving face.

‘Aren’t you a bit young to be having special friends?’ Odin asks with an air of distain.

‘Oh hush Odin, I wasn’t _that_ much older than Loki is now when you started wooing me.’ Odin returns Frigga's smirk. Thor is still reeling. And if that isn’t the purplely hue of a love bite peeking out on Loki’s neck. Loki catches him staring and glares, angrily readjusting his collar. Thor hastily looks down at his food and carries on chewing.

‘Is he from school?’ Odin interrogates.

‘Yeah,’ Loki says quietly, ‘he’s in my art class.’

‘Another artist,’ his father replies flatly, ‘surprise, surprise.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Frigga interjects.

‘Well, if Loki spends every day in the art school, it comes as no shock that he meets someone who does the same.’

‘So, they have shared interests. Nothing wrong with that.’

‘No, there’s nothing wrong with it. I just think it might do him good to broaden his horizons a little, is all.’

‘Nonsense,’ Frigga says cheerfully, ‘I think Theo sounds like a creative soul. I’d love to meet him. Why don’t you invite him over for dinner one night after school next week?’

‘That’s hardly appropriate,’ Odin says.

‘I don’t see why not. Thor has his friends round all the time, it’s only fair that Loki does too.’

‘But he’s sixteen, we shouldn’t be encouraging him to bring this boy over to the house. What will the boy’s parents say?’

‘It’s just dinner Odin,’ Frigga say wearily, ‘I don’t see what the big deal is.’

‘What’s your problem with Theo?’ Loki asks Odin directly. His tone is not aggressive, but he’s put his cutlery down and Thor can see in his eyes that his brother is readying for a fight. Thor feels a quiver of anticipation, as if he were a spectator at a bullfight, watching Loki raise his red flag to their father’s horned head, waiting to throw the first spear. Odin puts his own fork down and faces Loki head on. He’s not angry yet, but he knows he’s being tested.

‘I’m just saying,’ he says tersely, ‘this boy may not be the wisest choice for you.’

‘And who _would_ be a wise choice then, someone more like Sif?’ Loki fires back. It’s a loaded question, veiled with things unspoken.

‘Yes,’ Odin replies coldly, ‘someone like Sif.’

‘Odin,’ Frigga warns ‘Loki is free to see whomever he likes.’

‘No, no. It’s ok,’ Loki counters defiantly, still staring at Odin head on. Thor is thrilled by his boldness, silently egging his little brother on. The tension at the table is palpable. ‘Maybe dad’s right,’ Loki continues, ‘maybe I do need someone like Sif. I’m mean she’s smart, funny, ambitious. No denying she’s a real catch.’

‘Don’t mock me boy,’ Odin growls.

‘And most importantly, she doesn’t have a dick.’

‘Loki!’ Frigga admonishes, ‘that’s quite enough! That’s not at all what your father is saying. We have nothing against it.’

‘Oh yeah,’ Loki retorts, ‘it’s all fine as long as it’s not in the family.’

‘It’s nothing to do with family,’ Odin snaps, ‘believe me.’

‘Odin!’ Frigga screams, losing her cool. Loki and Thor sit back for a moment. They’ve never heard their mother raise her voice like this before. After a beat Loki slides back in his chair and makes to leave.

‘Loki,’ Thor grabs for his arm as he gets up but his brother angrily throws him off and runs for the door.

‘Thor, you stay where you are,’ Odin barks. Thor reluctantly lowers himself back into his seat.

‘There, you’ve made him cry,’ Frigga scolds, ‘are you happy now?’

‘Frigga you know that was not my intention. But I’m his father, it’s my responsibility to stop him making the wrong decisions.’

‘He’s not making the wrong decisions, he’s being true to himself. What difference does it make if he like boys or girls?’

‘It doesn’t!’ Odin huffed, ‘but people can be cruel. We’ve already been called in to speak to the Head because he’s getting beaten up at school. This is just more ammunition for the bullies.’

‘Oh come on, wasn’t it you who’s always telling him to ignore…’

But Thor is no longer listening. His food has gone cold and he’s lost his appetite. When he quietly excuses himself and heads upstairs neither of his parents stop him.

Out on the landing he can hear Loki crying softly inside his room. Thor pushes the door open and sees his brother crumpled on his bed, face pressed to the pillow, sobbing quietly.

Thor perches on the edge of the bed and places a large hand on Loki’s trembling shoulder.

Thor knows he should tell him that he shouldn’t cry, dad didn’t mean it and everything will be ok. But the words stay lodged in his throat.

Loki looks up at him, green eyes imploring. Even like this, face flushed pink, black hair matted against the wet of his cheek, he takes Thor’s breath away.

There’s a strange look in Loki’s eye, like he knows something Thor doesn’t. His crying has lessened now. Thor is hyper aware of his brother’s soft exhales and the erratic quivers of his throat. Loki leans forward ever so slowly, his breath ghosting across Thor’s face. He pauses, testing.

Thor’s heart is pounding. Impulse overcomes him and he leans forward, placing a single kiss on Loki's lips. They pull back slightly, looking at each other, assessing the gravity of what has just passed between them. Before he knows it Loki leans in to kiss him again, this time with a measure of force and a flash of tongue. Chaste has evolved into something more pressing.

Thor pulls back, horrified. The spell is broken. Loki’s brow crumples with disappointment.

‘Fuck off then,’ he hisses and throws himself back down, weeping all over again.

The pit falls out of Thor’s stomach.


	10. Act I: Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up from where chapter six left off. (The chapters alternate between past and present, and in the present day they alternate between Loki and Thor. This is Thor's chapter.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry it has taken this long for an update. I am working seven days a week in two jobs, often back-to-back shifts. So 'sleep' and 'free time' are pretty much foreign concepts right now. But here is the next chapter for you. Comments and feedback warmly received as always. Enjoy!

**Present day: five years after the crash, the day after the Return.**

 

Frigga hovered on the landing, apprehensive. After several minutes of deliberating she harboured her resolve and knocked on the door.

No response.

Tentatively she pressed her ear to the door listening for signs of life, but there was nothing. With a twist of dread she wondered whether it had all been a figment of her imagination and Thor had never returned. But relief flooded through her as she swung the door open to see Thor’s hulking body beneath the sheets, chest rising and falling as he breathed softly in and out. Even asleep like this Frigga could see he eyes were puffy from crying, the strangled sheets beneath him tell-tale signs of a troubled night. Gingerly she peeled back the covers to check on his hand which she hand lovingly bandaged for him last night.

He’d been like a crazed animal at the news of Loki’s death, distressed to the point of violence. It was different for Frigga and Odin, they’d had almost five years to come to terms with it. But seeing the grief fresh on Thor’s face, all her own horror and dread came rushing back.

Frigga had never seen Thor in such a state. She watched stricken as he dashed their crystal glasses against the wall, one after the other, jagged shards raining down. He went on and on until the fight left him and he collapsed on the hearth in floods of tears, clinging desperately to her waist, lacerated hands smearing blood across her evening dress. All the nights she had dreamt of Thor’s homecoming, she had never pictured it like this.

Between them, they’d managed to get him upstairs and into bed so Frigga could tend his wounds. He’d cried for hours, body trembling as Frigga clung to him in the dark. No reassuring words or gentle kiss could chase this pain away. He’d been largely unresponsive once the crying stopped, dozing in and out of sleep from the heavy painkillers and the sleeping pills. She’d stayed for a long time, watching him sleep, dwelling on the bitter sweetness of the evening’s events. Eventually Odin came to draw her gently away, so they could all finally get some rest.

The following morning they’d been afraid to wake Thor. But as the morning rolled into the afternoon Frigga grew anxious and had to check on him. She perched on the edge of the bed now, lightly stroking his hair, overcome all over again with a conflicting combination of euphoria and intense sorrow.

From this angle she could see some of Thor’s scars, like silvery veins across his chest. They intensified across his neck and shoulder, probably from where he’d gone through the windscreen she thought bleakly. She traced them with her fingers, marvelling. They were not tactile but aesthetic, otherworldly.

Thor stirred at her touch and she froze as he shifted his head. Bleary-eyed he squinted as his vision swam in and out of focus.

‘Hey,’ she soothed, despite her own pounding heart, ‘it’s just me.’

Thor settled back down and closed his eyes. Frigga found herself at a loss for what to say next. She knew she should mention Loki, acknowledge the mortal blow that Thor had been dealt last night. But she sensed Thor was on the verge of breaking down and her own nerves were shot to pieces. She wasn’t sure either of them were ready to have that conversation right now.

‘How are you feeling?’ She whispered instead.

He groaned and rubbed his eyes.

‘I’ll get you some more painkillers,’ she said, rising off the bed. Thor grabbed for her with his bandaged hand, hissing at the sudden sharp pain.

‘Easy now,’ she eased him back down, ‘you had quite a nasty cut.’

She cradled his bandaged hand in her own, though his was twice the size of hers.

‘Stay.’ He whispered, and closed his eyes again. She placed a kiss on his forehead, and lay down on the pillow beside him in silence.

 

 

Frigga walked into the kitchen to find Odin on the phone. He held a finger up to warn her not to interrupt.

‘That’s excellent, thank you Commissioner.’

Frigga picked up the kettle as it boiled and poured a cup of tea, stirring the milk in quietly.

‘Yes absolutely, we’ll be seeing you very shortly. My best to your wife. Yes of course. Thank you Commissioner. See you then, bye.’

‘What was all that about?’ Frigga asked as Odin replaced the phone on its receiver.

‘That was the Head of the Met. We have to register Thor’s return, get his files processed, his accounts reinstated and so on.’

‘That sounds like a bureaucratic nightmare.’

‘Well by all accounts it should take about three months but the Commissioner assured me he’ll get it turned around in less than a week.’

‘How on earth did you manage to pull that off?’

‘Tactics Frigga. I called in an old favour, and he was happy to oblige.’

‘What favour?’

‘Doesn’t matter. More importantly, Thor can get on with his life now. And as a sign of our gratitude I told the Commissioner he’d have pride of place at Thor’s return party.’

‘Thor’s return party?’ Frigga put her cup down on the counter and turned to face Odin full on, ‘care to fill me in?’

‘Frigga you don’t seriously think that after five years of waiting we’re going to keep Thor’s return a secret.’

‘A secret, no. But he needs space and time to come to terms with everything.’

‘And he’ll get it. I’m just forward planning.’

He saw Frigga’s eyes narrow and the way she thumbed her wedding ring back and forth over the knuckle as she did sometimes when she was working up to a fight.

‘Odin, how many people have you told?’

‘A couple of close friends, that’s all.’

‘And the Chief of Police counts as a close friend does he?’

‘That was a matter of policy! I just saved Thor having to go down to the local police station and jump through a line of bureaucratic hoops before he’s ready to.’

‘That may be true, but I’m just concerned that we need to be prudent about who we tell just yet.’

‘Frigga, however much we try and keep it quiet, people are going to find out sooner or later. And you do realise once it’s out, Thor’s face will be all over the news.’

‘That may be, but in the mean time we need to protect Thor’s privacy. And what’s this about a return party? You never asked me.’

‘If the press get word of Thor’s return we’ll have a media frenzy at our front door in minutes. It makes much more sense to have a properly publicised event that we can host on our terms.’

‘We’ve barely had time to take stock and your first response is to throw a party?’

‘And why not, are we not celebrating? We’ll hire a venue, roll out the red carpet, all the biggest names will be there, the full works. This way all our friends get to see Thor, Thor gets to see all our friends and the paps get their glamour shots. Everybody’s happy.’

‘Odin! It’s way too soon. Thor only came back last night! It’s been less than 24 hours. He’s just found out that Loki…’ She glanced up at the ceiling and lowered her voice, ‘he’s just found about Loki. He’s distraught. He needs time.’

‘I understand that he’s devastated, of course I do! But the last thing he needs is to stay cooped up in his room for days on end dwelling on things he cannot change.’

‘He’s not dwelling Odin, he’s grieving.’

‘I know that, but what I’m saying is we’ve got to get him back on his feet. A lot has happened since he’s been gone, if he’s going to catch up with the world he has to start now.’

‘And you think making him the centre of a media storm is going to do that?’

‘Why d’you have to put it like that? The media is just one part of it, consider it a necessary evil. But once we get inside the venue it will be all about Thor. Think of it like a homecoming. He hasn’t seen his friends in five years. Not to mention several new faces. We can introduce him to Cedrick Foster. If Thor’s going to be a part of the business he needs to meet his new business partner.’

Frigga threw her hands up in despair.

‘Can you hear yourself right now? Honestly, you cannot be serious!’

‘Oh I’m serious all right.’

‘Odin, if you cared to find out for yourself, our eldest son is currently lying in bed too depressed to open his eyes. There is no way he is up to facing a party. We’ve got to listen to him, respect his needs. We ignored them before and look what it cost our family.’

‘Refusing to accept his…what happened with Loki was not the same as ignoring his needs.’

‘Just because you didn’t like it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.’

‘I never said it didn’t happened, I said it never should have happened!’

‘But it did! That’s the point!’

Odin turned to leave.

‘Frigga I am not having this conversation with you now. Thor’s just upstairs. This is not the right time.’

‘It’s _never_ the right time!’ She followed behind him as he crossed the room, ‘you’ve been avoiding this conversation for years.’

He whipped round angrily. ‘What’s the point in dragging it all back up? It’s over now!’

‘It’s still important! Especially now Thor is back. We’re going to have to discuss it with him at some point.’

‘In god’s name, _why_? This is a fresh start for Thor, a clean slate. Why do you insist on muddying it with past mistakes?’

‘It wasn’t just a mistake Odin,’ she said emphatically ‘they were in a relationship.’

‘Don’t call it that. _We’re_ in a relationship. What they had was perverse.’

‘Whatever it was, we’re their parents, we should have comforted them, not judged them.’

‘Frigga, you can’t tell me you condone it.’

‘You’re missing the point again Odin! It’s not about what _we_ think, it never was! The boys felt what they felt, that’s it. Nothing we could say or do would have changed that. It may be unnatural to us, but it was natural to them.’

‘Natural? Thor was _confused_. Loki got into his head like he always did. I couldn’t let them go down that path, it would have ruined us all.’

‘Oh yes that’s right, because the outcome of what you did was so much better! Our sons run away from home, one dies trying and the other kills himself. But no, you’re right, letting them make their own choices would have ruined us all.’

‘How dare you tell me that I am to blame for what happened!’

‘We were both to blame!’ Frigga threw her arms up, ‘we were wrong, we let them down, and we cannot afford to make the same mistake again.’

‘That same mistake cannot be made again. Loki is no longer with us. Thor has no choice but to move on.’

‘Move on? Loki will always be a part of this family. At least one of us in this household is grieving Loki’s death.’

A look of genuine pain appeared on Odin’s face. Frigga knew her words had hurt him. She exhaled, anger fast becoming sadness again.

‘You think you’re the only one who mourns him?’ Odin said quietly, single eye shining with unshed tears, ‘I too grieve the loss of our son. I grieved Loki’s death just as you did, don’t you ever tell me otherwise.’

Frigga approached him arms outstretched, her own eyes watering.

‘Oh Odin,’ she said embracing him, ‘our prayers have finally been answered, Thor has come home. And yet we’re at each other’s throats.’

‘I don’t want to fight you,’ he whispered into her hair, ‘of all the people in this world, I need you on my side.’

‘I am,’ she said, stroking his back as she hugged, ‘always.’

After a long period of silence, Odin spoke. ‘I asked the Commissioner if he’d heard anything about Loki.’

Frigga stared at him intently. It was the first reconciliatory allusion he had made towards their youngest son since he had thrown him out onto the street, all those years ago.

‘And?’ She pressed, ‘What did he say?’

‘No word of him,’ he said softly, ‘I’m so sorry.’

She nodded sadly and leaned back in to hug him as she cried. He stroked her hair tenderly.

‘We have one son with us again,’ he murmured, ‘that at least we can be grateful for.’

 

 

 

The sound of raised voices downstairs filtered into Thor’s consciousness. He lay for a long time, listening to the sounds of muted aggression floating up from the kitchen. His parents hadn’t argued like this since…since before Odin walked out on them and this whole sorry story began.

He sat up and winced as pain exploded through the left side of his brain. Groggily he fumbled for the tablets that Frigga had left by his bed and chased them down with a glass of water.

The sight of his bandaged hand brought the devastating revelation of last night flooding back. Loki was gone. The concept was so vast and so appalling he couldn’t comprehend it. But his mother had said the words loud and clear last night.

_Loki killed himself._

The remembrance brought a pang of sorrow that erupted in his chest. His grief was ardent to the point of painful. He leant back again the headboard, dizzy and shaking. It was as though the news had provoked a complete shift in his axis, and he no longer recognised the world he had returned to. He refused to accept this new and unbearable existence in which Loki was a gaping absence.

All night he had dreamt of his brother. Thor was on foot, running along the deserted motorway in the pitch black night. He could not see Loki, but he felt his presence in the air, or rather heard his voice circle about him, calling his name in the darkness. Occasionally he would glimpse a fleeting shadow on the corner of his vision. At yet whenever he reached out in front of him his fingers would close around thin air, futile.

Slowly Thor sat up straight. For the first time since his return he took a good look at his room. It seemed to have been left entirely untouched since his death, everything was just as it had been the day he and Loki left. Posters of his favourite footballers still adorned the walls, his trophies were up on display on the shelves. Everything was in its rightful place, like a mausoleum to his adolescence. It was cruelly absurd, the knowledge that this ephemeral and superficial collection of souvenirs had outlived the one thing that he loved the most, like a brutal reminder of what he had lost. In losing Loki he had lost not just his brother and companion, but the object of his affections, a living breathing bastion of shared memory and mutual experience. He couldn’t begin to articulate it, and no one else could possibly understand.

A thick layer of dust had settled across the room, and the air hung stale around him from years without ventilation. The only tell-tale signs of a human presence were the light scuff marks on the floor where Frigga’s footsteps had disturbed the carpet of dust. Cautiously Thor swung his legs over the side of the bed and set his bare feet on the floor. He lifted one foot and observed the large imprint it left in the dust. So he was real then. This was real.

He walked slowly around his room, tracing his fingers across the walls, dust collecting on the pads of his fingertips. One by one he opened the drawers in his desk, bandaged hand ghosting over the miscellaneous objects within. The door of his wardrobe creaked as it opened, hinges flecked with coppery spots of rust.

Thor’s eyes scanned the rail, pawing at the sleeves of all his old sports jackets, hoodies and blazers, remnants of a forgotten time, untouched as if waiting for his return. His hand hovered over the sleeve of his red baseball jacket and a lump caught in his throat, remembering the feel of Loki’s long fingers fisting the fabric in passion. The jacket felt heavy on the hanger and he pulled it off the railing, testing the weight. Pulling down the zip he gasped. Tucked within the scarlet confines was the deep green of Loki’s own jacket, carefully concealed within his larger one. Frigga must have put it there. He clutched the fabric to his face breathing in, filling his lungs, desperate for a hint of Loki’s scent. But there was none, only washing powder and must. His tears spilt onto the cloth, turning it almost black in colour where they fell. And still he held it tight, basking in the memories.

Carefully he inched the heavy wardrobe slightly away from the wall and reached down behind it on the left-hand side, fumbling blindly against the skirting board until his fingers found what they were searching for. Pressed between the wall and the wardrobe was a tiny brown envelope. He pulled it out and sat on the edge of the bed with it, tentatively peeling back the flap.

Inside the envelope he found a drawing, a sketch Loki had done years ago of the two of them, locked in a tender embrace.

The sight of it brought a knot to Thor’s throat. He flipped the card over. On the other side, was a short message written in Loki’s neat handwriting:

_You are my brother and my friend. I may sometimes be envious of you, but never doubt that I love you._

 

Thor cried until he had nothing left to give.


End file.
